


In Shock

by nanuk_dain



Series: Drift Compatible [2]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Angst, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Movie, Pre-Slash, Team Hot Dads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-20 16:19:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2435162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanuk_dain/pseuds/nanuk_dain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They haven't seen each other in years, yet here Stacker Pentecost is, telling Herc Hansen that his wife Angela is dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Shock

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the next piece of the series. I'm sorry that it's so darkish and emotional, I really didn't intend to write all that heavy stuff when I began the series... And I have more. Just saying XD  
> Btw, is anyone reading these fics? I've had just one comment on three fics... Please let me know it you like what I'm producing here? *puppy dog eyes*

_Sydney, Australia, September 2nd 2014_

 

The knock on his door comes sooner than Herc expected. He's been waiting for it ever since the smoke settled in the aftermath of the second nuke. He made sure Chuck stayed with Scott because he doesn't want his son around to witness the suits coming by to tell them with impassive faces that Angela has been killed, and they're really sorry, but that it was necessary to deploy that nuke for the survival of the city. 

When he opens the door, he thinks for a moment that maybe his assumptions about the visitor were wrong. There's a tall black man standing on the porch, familiar although they haven't seen in years. He's wearing a dark blue uniform, the insignia of the UN on his shoulder. That alone is enough to let Herc know that this isn't just a friendly visit. He still can't help feeling pleased to see the Brit again.

"Hello, Herc." Stacker greets him, his voice the same dark velvet that Herc remembers from Afghanistan. Stacker never breaks eye contact when he continues speaking. "I'm here on behalf of the UN. Your wife... she was killed during Scissure's attack."

Herc feels as if the somebody pulled the rug out from under him. He has to close his eyes for a moment in order to rein in the sudden onslaught of pain. It doesn't matter that he knew what was coming. "How?"

Stacker understands right away. "The building she worked in was destroyed by the kaiju."

"So it wasn't the nuke." Somehow it matters, it's important to know that Angela wasn't killed by the very people who were supposed to protect her and all the other people in downtown Sydney who died today.

"She was already dead." Stacker replies, and although it feels like each word is a knife being twisted in his chest, Herc appreciates that he's not sugar-coating things. Yet Herc does not manage to find his voice, to say anything. He just stands there in the middle of his entrance room, trying to understand that Angela won't come home ever again.

“I'm so sorry, Herc." Stacker's voice is rough with honest emotion. It's not an empty phrase, not meaningless, polite words said because there is an awkward silence to fill. No, there's understanding and sincerity in his dark voice, and it is an anchor that Herc clings to in the maelstrom of pain and grief. 

It's the warm, comforting hand on his shoulder that breaks him, though. Suddenly Herc feels overwhelmed by the realisation that things will never be the same again. His son will have to grow up without his mom who he loves so much, no matter that he pretends to be all grown up now that he's ten years old. No more cheering for opposite teams during a baseball game because Angie and him just could never agree on the same team. No more Sunday breakfasts out on the porch with Angela licking the jam off the knife no matter how many times Herc teased her that she was setting a bad example for their son. No more of her beautiful, wild, free laughter that infected everybody around her. Instead there's nothing. She's gone. 

There's not even a body to bury.

Oh god, how is he supposed to tell Chuck...? 

Herc swallows and he wonders why his gaze is so blurry. "I had to choose. Angela or Chuck. I had only enough time to get to one of them..."

He should have tried harder to reach her. Maybe the kaiju hadn't killed her, maybe he could have got to her before they fired that nuke. If he had just tried...

Without a word Stacker steps inside the hall and closes the front door behind him. Through the haze of emotions Herc notices the arms that wrap around him and pull him into a strong embrace. His forehead comes to rest on Stacker's shoulder and that's when Herc cracks. He doesn't even realise that he's sobbing until he feels the warm hand on his neck, slowly carding through the hair at the base of his head. Herc focusses on that touch because he knows he'll lose himself if he doesn't hold on to something, _anything_ , right now.

Stacker doesn't say anything, makes no soothing sounds. He's just there, just holds him, just lets him cry because that's what Herc needs now. Herc screws his eyes shut and lets go of his control, lets Stacker take his pain, trusting him to be strong enough to take it. He doesn't know how long it takes for his breath to calm down, for his tears to stop and his mind to clear slowly. 

Oh man, he's so glad that Chuck is not here to witness this. He doesn't want Chuck to ever see him this weak and broken. He's the only family Chuck has left, and he has to be strong for him, make sure he grows up as happy as possible given their - and the world's - situation.

Herc takes a deep breath and tries to regain his composure. He allows himself another moment of comfort in Stacker's embrace, then he pulls himself together and straightens up again. Stacker lets go of him, but doesn't step back. Somehow his closeness helps Herc to focus.

"Thank you." Herc forces out although he doesn't trust his voice. He's right not to, it sounds rough and hoarse, strained to the point of breaking. If it were anybody but Stacker, Herc wouldn't have said a word. He wouldn't have let got like that. They may not have seen often since Afghanistan, but the immediate, unconditional trust is still there.

"I wanted to be the one to tell you." Stacker murmurs as if he has to explain why he's here, in Australia, in Sydney, in Herc's house. 

"I kind of already knew." Herc admits. The moment he had to choose between his wife and his son, he knew that one of them would not survive. No matter that Herc's mind tells him that Angela's death isn't his fault, he still will blame himself for the rest of his life that he hasn't saved her, hasn't protected her like he should have. It's a choice he hops Chuck will never have to make.

"I'm sorry for..." Herc doesn't have the words, so he just gestures at himself and Stacker, the room, the entire situation. Stacker catches his gaze, holds it.

"I understand, Herc." Stacker's voice holds such a profound sadness that a shiver runs down Herc's spine. "I've been there. I lost my sister to Trespasser. She was a pilot, like us."

Herc nods, he still doesn't trust his voice. It's obvious that Stacker doesn't think less of him for breaking down, and Herc is incredibly grateful for it. There's that hole inside his chest where just this morning Angela had fit, and he doesn't know how to deal with it.

"Where's your son?" Stacker asks, and Herc sees him looking at a picture of Angela and Chuck on the wall next to the door to the living room. They're laughing out loud about that seagull that attacked Herc four times before he managed to snap this picture. It's a bit out of focus, but Angela always loved the sincerity of the emotion the photo had captured.

"My brother takes care of him." Herc clears his throat and drags his gaze away from the picture. "I didn't want him to experience some suit coming by to tell him that his mom is dead."

Stacker nods, clearly understanding where he's coming from.

"That's something he should hear from me." Herc continues very quietly, then he closes his eyes and lets out a deep sigh. "I have no idea how I'm supposed to tell him."

"There is no gentle way of saying it, Herc." Stacker holds his gaze, willing him to understand. Herc suddenly gets it - Stacker has been in Chuck's shoes at some point, he's speaking from experience. "He's old enough to take it even worse if you tried to. Be honest, and stay strong no matter how he reacts."

"It will be rather violent, I think." Herc says and sighs. Chuck is going to take it hard, and Herc is not sure if he's the right man to deal with a furious, hurt, traumatized Chuck when he's barely keeping it together himself. 

"I'm sorry I can't be here to support you." Stacker replies. Again it's not meaningless pleasantries, but sincere regret, and it catches Herc off guard. "The UN has other plans. I'm leaving for Seoul tomorrow morning."

"Always busy, aren't you?" Herc gives a smirk. It's weak, but it's there.

Stacker understands the effort it takes and rewards him with a chuckle, accepting his change of topic. "Seems there's always some catastrophe in the making. If it's not a kaiju, then it's a politician..."

 _'I'm not sure which one is worse'_ , Herc wants to quip, but the words die on his tongue, leaving a foul taste in their wake when he thinks of Angela.

"Yeah, I know the feeling." he says instead. Only then does Herc remember his manners. "Do you want something to drink?"

There's a smirk tugging on Stacker's lips, an involuntary reaction to the out-of-context question. "I'd like to, but I can't. I have another meeting in an hour. I wrestled for just enough time to come by."

"Thank you." Herc holds Stacker's gaze, then he draws him into a quick but heartfelt hug. "That it was you who came to tell me."

Stacker returns the embrace, and just nods to Herc's words. Then he says his goodbyes and heads for the door. He is almost gone before he turns and catches Herc's gaze. "Don't be a stranger."

Herc nods because he's sure his voice will fail him. He hears the unspoken words and they feel like balm for his grief-shaken soul. _'You don't have to deal with this on your own. You can always talk to me. I want to know how you're holding up.'_

The door closes behind Stacker with a gentle click that somehow leaves Herc feeling cut off from the world. He closes his eyes for a moment, braces himself and then straightens. The hole where Angela used to be is slowly expanding with every moment the certainty of her death sinks in further. 

""How do I tell him, Ange?" Herc whispers. He can't help asking her for advice, almost silently and just under his breath, but he still asks. She always knew how to handle Chuck, she got through to him when Herc didn't. Now it's just him and Chuck. They will have to make do, somehow, but Herc doesn't know how. 

He stares at the door for a long time before he finds the strength to move. He has get to Scott's. 

He has to tell Chuck.


End file.
